Le Rêve Fantastique
by Jubalii
Summary: After an experiment gone wrong, Seras is nearly comatose in a hospital bed. After being ordered to "snap her out of it", so to speak, Alucard is forced to delve deep into her subconscious. It's one wild ride, to be sure.


"You're acting like I'm going to let them rip me open and pull out my heart." Seras half-smirked, twisting the plastic hospital band that was fastened around her wrist. "Do I dare take this as a sign that the great vampire Alucard is _concerned_,_ worried_ even?" she teased, grinning devilishly.

"I am not worried," Alucard replied coldly, glaring at her. "I am concerned, though; I'm convinced that you've had every last bit of sense knocked out of you at some point. This is an experimental drug, and you volunteered to let them test it on you. You are no laboratory rat."

"I know that," she replied impatiently, her lightheartedness dissipating. "I also know that vampires do have need for anesthesia at times, just like everyone else. I know that regular drugs don't work with our bodies, since they're made for _human _consumption. That's why I'm volunteering to let them test this on me. If they succeed, vampires could have access to anesthesia too."

"And if they fail, where will you be?" he growled. She looked away, sighing.

"I'd rather not think about that, alright?" Callous silence greeted her and she flopped back against the pillows after a moment, scowling at the television. "I don't see why you can't trust my judgment. Sir Integra thinks it's a fine idea."

"She does not. She's been nothing but fretful all afternoon. Why do you think she refuses to come into this room?" He gestured at the hospital room, with its bland atmosphere and ugly curtains. Seras didn't answer, and crossed her arms sullenly.

"If you're gonna be like that, then you should just leave," she muttered. He made a motion to rise from the plush armchair he'd been curled up in all afternoon and she uncrossed her arms, looking at him pleadingly. "Don't go. Stay," she said quickly. "Are you really going to leave me here all by myself?"

"I don't see why not," he retorted, but settled back into the chair, staring blankly at the news program on the telly. Seras hid a smile, turning her attention to a story about a kitten being saved by a resourceful man with a plastic umbrella. _You can't fool me_, she thought triumphantly, reveling in the fact that he couldn't hear her thoughts like he used to when they were bonded as master and servant.

It had been nearly two decades since she'd been freed, and they fought side by side as comrades in arms rather than a vampire and his Childe. But even if she didn't belong to him anymore (per say) he still kept a rather oppressively protective stance over her. It wasn't that she disliked the fact; no, she felt almost… flattered, really. He didn't behave like that around just _anyone_, which made her special—sort of.

She just wished he wasn't so damn possessive about it. After all, a strange man couldn't even look her direction without being glared at, and woe to him if he actually tried to _talk _to her. Alucard seemed to treat everyone around them like a potential enemy; in theory that was a good way to be, but in practice it made for few friendships and lots of confused (and nearly dead) humans. She had far too many close calls between her former master and unsuspecting, all-too-forward gentlemen on the street.

But that just proved that he _did _care about her, however he acted. He was still as antisocial and ill-disposed as he ever was, and she didn't escape his scathing comments any more often than others did. But then again, she had never imagined him to be the sort of man that you read about in cheap paperback romance novels. Those dashing, mysterious rogues who were magically transformed by the great power of Love into fawning, lovey-dovey types who still somehow managed to be roguish everywhere except the bedroom; that was fantasy, and it was a miracle that didn't happen in the real world.

She looked at him, still staring at the screen as the news showed the story of a derailed train in Warsaw that left thousands dead and many more wounded. She couldn't imagine him fawning over _anyone_, much less her. He didn't fawn; it just wasn't a word you used in the same sentence as "Alucard", just like you wouldn't use words like tender, or sweet, or gentle.

She found she didn't mind all that much. She knew him much better than that; the words she used to describe him were bigger, bolder terms that outlasted simple things like sweetness or gentleness. Others would say things like cruel, evil, or maybe pitiless. But she didn't think that way. To her, Alucard was prevailing, courageous, powerful, and vehement; he wasn't someone you could nail down with just one syllable.

He turned slightly in his chair, and she colored as he caught her staring at him. She grinned as cheerily as she could muster, feeling embarrassed. She didn't know why, exactly, but she knew that she didn't want him to know she'd been thinking about him. It wasn't like he would really care; but all the same, she'd rather him be in the dark about it.

"Promise me something," she said, breaking the silence between them. He frowned. "It would make me feel more confident," she added, trying to bend him to her will. He snarled his nose.

"If you want to feel more confident, give up this foolish test-run," he remarked. She tried to keep from pouting, and failed. He watched her before sighing and turning away, pointedly ignoring her.

"Just promise!" she kept on. "It's not anything very hard."

"If it will make you shut up," he hissed, trying to hear about a possible radiation leak at the sight of the train wreck. She perked up slightly, leaning forward on the thin bed and crossing her legs beneath the warmed sheet. Her back felt a draft from the open-backed hospital gown and she tucked the edges of the blanket around her hips in an attempt to keep the warmth in.

"Promise me that you'll stay here and be next to me when I wake up." He didn't bat an eye.

"Yes," he agreed absently, his focus still clearly on the television and not her. She wondered if he even heard her words, or was just saying it to keep her quiet while he listened to the grim-faced anchor at the news desk.

"Alucard," she growled warningly. "Give me your word." He turned to glower at her, his face an impatient mask of exasperation.

"I give you my word," he swore dryly, eyes cold over the rims of his glasses. She couldn't help but feel a little hurt; here she was about to go into surgery and he was more enthralled in a news program he could just as easily follow while she was in the operating room.

Before she could comment on his behavior—which was stemming from the fact she wasn't listening to him and giving up the whole thing, she was sure—the operating room nurse came in, clad in off-green scrubs, a blue shower-cap/sanitary hairnet, and a surgical mask tucked beneath her chin. She beamed a ruby-lipped smile at Seras, her hand automatically going to the chart dangling off the foot of the bed.

"Okay sweetie," she said, looking at the chart, "Can you tell me your name and birthday?" Seras rattled off the information without really thinking as she settled against the pillows again in preparation for being pushed back to the operating room. Alucard _finally _turned away from the television to watch the woman with his normal possessive/protective/mildly curious expression, although most of it Seras took for granted since he was hiding behind his glasses and that ridiculous hat.

"Alrighty then!" the nurse said cheerfully, putting down the chart and grabbing Seras' arm. She checked the plastic ID bracelet and nodded to herself. She smiled kindly down at Seras and patted her hand with her gloved one in that strangely comforting way middle-aged women were able to pull off. Seras wondered if the nurse had kids at home; usually, they brought that motherly aspect to work with them. "Let's get you to the room and set up, okay?"

"Okay," Seras nodded, looking around the woman's wide hips to where Alucard still sat in the chair. She frowned meaningfully at him. "You gave your word," she reminded him, her eyes sincere and expectant. He nodded gravely and she relaxed against the pillows as the woman raised the bedrails and hit the brake release with her foot, setting the bed in motion.

Seras looked around as she was wheeled down the bright hallway, past countless closed doors where other, _human _patients waited procedures. The hallway was filled with the sounds of the infirmary—beeping monitors, ringing phones, and crisp, static-filled intercom noise as nurses paged doctors and staff to different areas of the floor. She smiled as personell as they passed, dressed in different colors depending on their job. Most of them smiled back, nodding to her as they stopped to let her bed go by, or dodged around her in more of a hurry.

The nurse paused to slide her ID card on the wall apparatus. It beeped, the light turning green, and the double doors ahead slid open automatically, closing behind them as they ran through just in the nick of time. It was quieter back here, and the nurse wheeled her into one of the rooms after only turning once. It was lit with intense light that hurt Seras' eyes. The nurse pulled her mask up onto her face and wheeled the bed beside the operating table.

"Okay," she said, her voice slightly muffled. "I'm going to lower the bed rail, and I want you to scoot over onto the operating table for me. I'll give you a hand," she added, and helped to push Seras onto the tiny table, catching her when the vampiress about slid off the other side. "Hold still, and I'll get you a fresh, warm blanket," she ordered, and Seras obediently lay quietly on the table.

"Hello, hello!" a male voice said, and a cheery man dressed the same way as the nurse leaned over her head as the nurse shook open a blanket and let it billow over Seras' bare legs. The man had bifocals and Seras could see wrinkles around his eyes and gray sideburns beneath his blue surgical cap. His green eyes twinkled at her over his mask and she smiled back, again surprised at how the sight comforted her. "Miss Victoria, I presume?" She nodded bashfully.

"I'm Dr. Rayburn, the anesthesiologist. I'm one of the main guys working on you today, as you can guess." Seras nodded again, and the nurse handed him the chart from Seras' bed. He glanced at it and hummed thoughtfully. "Alright, everything seems to be in order," he said to the nurse in a more professional tone, before looking down at her once more.

"Dr. Holland will be here in just a second, and then we'll begin the procedure. Did they talk to you at Admissions, about how long it might take?" Seras shook her head.

"No, they were really busy down there," she said hesitantly. Dr. Rayburn nodded knowingly.

"Well, you're going to be under for an hour, and then we'll see how long it takes you to come back to us. It'll be the best sleep of your life," he winked. "Or, rather, your unlife, I suppose." Seras laughed nervously.

These doctors were well-trained professionals who worked with Hellsing branches in the U.S.A. They'd seen Ghoul bites and puncture wounds and military injuries galore, but Sir Integra had told her on the flight to Atlanta that this was the first time they would be working with an undead subject.

The anesthesiologist caught her anxious expression and petted her head gently, like a man would his daughter. "Don't you worry about a thing. We're going to take good care of you," he assured her. Seras smiled gratefully as the main surgeon came in. He was much younger and had deep brown eyes that reminded her of hot chocolate.

"Hello there, Seras," he said comfortably. "I'm Dr. Holland. I'll be the one doing the poking and prodding in this procedure," he said, and she could tell behind his mask that he was grinning at her. "Are you ready to get started? Have any last questions?"

"I'm ready," Seras replied, smiling at him with what she hoped was a confident expression. Now that the operation was about to begin, she couldn't help but feel very nervous. Alucard had been right, even if she hadn't listened to him. This was an experimental drug, and there was a possibility, however low, that something could go wrong. She licked her lips as they began to swarm around her, calling out numbers and milliliters of this and that to each other. Dr. Rayburn leaned over her and this time, his eyes were both solemn and reassuring.

"We _will _take good care of you. Now, I want you to relax, and count back from ten for me."

"Ten, nine, eight…."

* * *

><p><em>Alucard….Alucard! <em>

Alucard's head jerked up from where it rested against his shoulder. He immediately went into "high-alert" mode, the stench of disinfectant and thrum of thousands of heartbeats telling him that he wasn't in his room. He remembered where he was and relaxed slightly, looking up to see his master standing before him.

"Alucard," she said again, and he heard her heart beating quicker than normally. He looked into her one good eye and realized something was wrong. Her face was tired, wrinkles more prominent than usual and her expression was both lost and afraid. "Seras…" she started, and then blinked rapidly, turning away. "Come with me."

There was no need for her to make it an order. The minute his former servant's name passed her lips, he was on his feet. His mind was split; part of him railed against Seras, and the other against himself. _Why _did he not stop her from going? He could have talked to Integra. He could have made it so that someone else had to be the guinea pig for these American doctors. Now, what? He ran the possibilities through his mind.

If she were dead…. He didn't want to go there. Part of him already declared it a certainty, despite his fierce mantra that she _was not _dead; for if she was, wouldn't Integra be much more distraught? But, still…. _God has taken everything from you before. Why not this little woman, too? _He didn't want to think about it. He _didn't _want to think about it. But he couldn't help himself.

He followed no less than two paces behind her, through endlessly winding halls. People stared at him as he went by, and elderly and children alike shrank away from the deadly aura he gave off. Now, he thought only of the doctors. If their negligence caused Seras to be harmed, he'd kill them all. He'd rip them to shreds. No, he'd keep them alive and string them from the rooftop of the hospital from spikes, their entrails looping stickily around the splintery wooden posts like maypole ribbons. He'd paint the hallways in their blood.

"Alucard," Integra murmured threateningly, catching his bubbling fury. He stopped and she turned to look at him for a long moment. "Behave," she ordered, and he nodded in barely-restrained rage. She watched him before turning back and motioning for him to follow her inside a room.

He saw an elderly doctor at the head of the bed, and a youthful one at the foot. The tiny room could barely hold them and the bed at the same time. Seras was on the bed, a blanket covering her from the waist down, and the short sleeved blue gown still on her body. She lay quietly, giving no sign that she was alive. She wasn't hooked up to any monitors except for a machine connected to two circular pads on each of her temples. The machine beeped, jagged blue and red lines arching in rhythm across the black screen.

"Hello," the elderly doctor greeted them, coming around the bed to shake Integra's hand. He offered it to Alucard, but after being glared at he dropped it and cleared his throat. "Well, she's still alive…sort of." He scratched beneath the surgeon's cap.

"What's wrong? Why's she not waking up?" Integra asked hurriedly, moving to the prone woman's side. She took a limp hand in both of hers, staring at Seras as if the sheer willpower she held in her gaze would make the Draculina rise. The elderly doctor sighed.

"We're not sure," he said honestly. "Everything was a resounding success, until this point. Her brainwaves indicate that she's still at home, so to speak, but we can't pull her out of it. Of course, humans also have this problem with anesthesia sometimes. But it's a very small percentage of the population."

"What can we do?" Integra asked, looking at both doctors. "Is there any medicine we can give her? Something to wake her up?" The younger doctor shook his head.

"I don't know," he growled, crossing his arms and shaking his head. "In other cases, I move forward based on what I know. But this is the first case of this kind; there's nothing else to go on!" he exclaimed. "It's all guesswork from here, but any further moves might damage her more than help." He looked askance at Alucard and backed a step closer to the bed. "I think you'll both agree that we want only what's in Seras' best interest."

"Pardon me for asking, but is there some sort of…"the elderly doctor paused, staring pensively at Alucard. "Is there some sort of vampire thing you might could do to bring her back to consciousness? Reverse hypnotizing, or something like that?"

"You watch too many movies, human," Alucard spat. "I can see into her mind, but only if she is awake." Sir Integra interrupted him.

"But she is nearly awake, mentally," she said slowly. "Only unconscious. I'm afraid I'm a bit blurry on how consciousness and unconsciousness work, but if she's in a comatose state right now, does that mean he can still see into her mind, provided her mind is doing something at the moment?" Both doctors looked puzzled and shrugged one after the other.

"I'm afraid I don't really know how that works either. No one does," the elderly man said. "It's a fascinating science, but we've only really brushed the surface of what consciousness is. But, as they say, it doesn't hurt to try."

"Alucard?" Sir Integra was looking at him hopefully, and it led to a sinking sensation in his gut. He frowned, but something inside him urged him to try like the doctor said. If it brought back Seras, he wouldn't get to kill the doctors, but he'd have his Police Girl awake again. And if she were awake, he could tell her how he was right, and force her to promise never to do something so utterly foolish again.

"Leave us," he said firmly, and the doctors looked at Integra for confirmation before filing out of the room. Integra turned back to Alucard before she left and watched him.

"Alucard, you bring her back. That's an order," she said quietly, and then the door shut with a soft click.

"As you command, my master," he said to the door, before going over to the bed. Watching the monitor beep, he shifted his glance to the still form beneath the sheets. Her blonde hair lay spread across the pillow, and there were no masks or wires crisscrossing her body, as there was no need for them to measure a heart rate that didn't exist. She looked peaceful and at rest, her pale skin shining against the stark white of the bed sheets.

"So," he said to her still form, wondering if she could hear him. "You finally look like that princess you talk about every once in a while. Sleeping Beauty…." He sneered, wishing she were awake. He could see her in his mind's eye, her face flushing deep red before she stomped her foot and tried her best to tear him down for the insult, even though they both had heard the compliment beneath the scathing words.

He sat at the side of the bed, taking off his hat and glasses, and closing his eyes. He concentrated hard, his mind falling in tune with the repetitive beep-beep-beep of the brainwave monitor, and he pressed his forehead to hers with a determined grimace. He felt the familiar sensation of falling out of his own body; his mind mingling with something that wasn't like her normal mind, nor was it like the mind of someone sleeping.

He felt a twinge of uncertainty; he wasn't sure if this would work or not. But before he could decide whether or not to press forward, it was too late. He felt a lurch and before he knew it, all was darkness.

* * *

><p>He stood before a stately mansion, which really resembled a castle. There were spires and turrets and the entire thing was decked out in purple trim, standing against the white marble that made the outer walls. Hedgerows lined the cobblestone path and the ornate door beckoned him to knock with its lion's-head knockers, each the size of his own head and so well-carved that each hair on the mane seemed separate from the next.<p>

He decided to forego knocking and barged into the manor. He was met with a golden and cream spectacle which resembled a Baroque nightmare. Not that it was bad—no, it just didn't suit his tastes at all. He was astonished that Seras would even dream of it; it didn't seem to suit her either.

Large, thin European-style windows were curtainless, each pane pristine enough that the glass was almost invisible. The main foyer was almost like the one in Hellsing manor, with the black-and-white checkerboard pattern of marble on the floor, spreading out before him to the gleaming white double staircase. Large arches framed the second floor, gilded in golden trim and broken only by the polished banister that formed a balcony of sorts.

Behind the arches, solid gold chandeliers hung in a row, their behemoth frames nestled in the vaulted ceilings and casting a mixed glow of flame and electrical light. Along the stairs, gas lights set in golden frames with delicate, pear-shaped glass coverings were placed at regular intervals. Alucard could see large doors just beyond the reach of the second story, their half-circle precipices a stained-glass marvel of doves and lilies against a golden background.

Alucard paused, turning a slow circle. It was more vivid than he ever remembered a dream being, and the sheer enormity of the foyer alone was almost overwhelming. All of this came from one woman's imagination? It was astounding! He had to give the Police Girl credit; she had created a large mansion fit for a queen. But it was a queen of the day's abode, not a No-Life Queen's. Did she still hang onto enough of her humanity that her mind was preoccupied with doves and the infantile wonder of castles and golden chandeliers?

"Excuse me!" Alucard spun on his heel as an all-too familiar voice accosted his ears. Standing at the head of the left-hand stairs, glaring down at him, was a sight right out of his past. It was Walter, but not the Walter that Seras could have remembered from her days at Hellsing.

This Walter wore all black leather; from his shoes to the fingerless gloves on his hands, the polished garments held their own sinister sparkle. His hair was devoid of gray and tied behind his head as neatly as it had always been with a plain black tie, not a single strand out of place. The monocle was there too, and the indigo eyes staring out at him were as familiar as it was. The long, thin face was smooth and wrinkleless, the mouth turned down in a frown as its owner looked down at the vampire mucking up his front hall.

"And just _who _are _you_, to be coming in here without so much as a knock?" Walter asked, descending the stairs rapidly and striding across the checkerboard tile to stand in front of Alucard. His frown became more pronounced as he looked Alucard over, eyes lingering on the unkempt hair and elaborate clothing.

"I'm here for Seras. What are _you _doing here?" he replied with the same offhand manner he'd given the real-life Walter when he was alive. Walter sniffed haughtily, looking down his nose at the vampire king.

"I serve her Ladyship, and keep an eye on things when her mama and papa are away," he answered curtly. "Now, I will ask you to leave. Follow me to the door." He made to walk past Alucard and stopped only when shadows arched from the ground to impede his passage. He tsked and looked at the other man, lips pursing into a thin line. "Sir, do _not _make me use force," he stated, fingers wiggling impatiently. Alucard heard the _zing _of wires arcing in the air and grinned despite himself.

"Not without the Police Girl, I'm afraid." Walter paused, one brow arching as he stared full-force at Alucard.

"There is no policewoman here," he proclaimed after a moment of studious silence. "There is only her Ladyship and her playmate." A door closed somewhere in the distance and the retainer's focus was taken off of Alucard as he looked around. Alucard looked as well as he heard the quick padding of feet and what sounded like both human and animal footfalls.

When the girl turned the corner, Alucard felt his eyes widen considerably. His surprise as seeing Walter was nothing compared to his bewilderment at seeing the young maiden now descending the staircase.

It was Integra, but the Integra he remembered from his first awakening in the murky dampness of Hellsing's dungeons. This young Integra was just as prim and proper as her real life counterpart was, coming down the stairs in a stately manner, one hand lightly holding onto the rail. She wore a crisp white blouse and a long green skirt that _swooshed _around her ankles as she stepped. A matching green ribbon was hanging from around her collar, the ends dangling and moving left to right as she walked.

She had a long leash wrapped several times around her other hand, and at the other end of the leash was a massive dog. Its ebony fur glistened in the light of the gas lamps as it heeled obediently at her side. The dog was holding a tiny kitten by its scruff, the kitten just as obediently dangling with its feet limp in the air. Atop the canine's head, a rabbit was perched demurely, nose and ears twitching.

"Walter, I'm going home now," the girl announced as she neared the men. She paused for a moment as the butler bowed deeply. "Father will be waiting at home for tea, and I simply _cannot_ be out past dark."

"Yes, Miss Hellsing," the butler conceded submissively. "Will you need an escort?" The young lady shook her head.

"No, it's not a far walk, and I have my pets for protection." She nodded a goodbye and hesitated only to look up at Alucard, eyes narrowing. "Who are _you _supposed to be, dressed like that?" she mused aloud. When he didn't respond, she shrugged and tugged the leash, clicking her tongue. The dog trotted forward and they were out the door and down the walk before anyone could blink.

Both Walter and Alucard watched as the girl until her form was obscured by the fence surrounding the mansion. Then the vampire turned back to the young-ish man and gained his attention once more.

"I _will _see Seras, _now_," he declared. Walter glared at him before answering.

"Her Ladyship takes tea at this time," he retorted snappishly. "I will announce you, but if she turns you away…"he trailed off, his face twisting in a grimace that said he didn't like the thought of Alucard even being near his charge. "Wait here one moment," he said, before climbing the stairs again and rounding the corner.

Alucard did wait while he was gone, going over what he'd just seen in his mind. If his memory served correctly, Integra had a picture of herself dressed in that outfit as a child sitting on the bookshelf in her office. Seras would have certainly seen that picture, but where the zoo came from he did not know. And she saw Walter dressed that way during the Blitz, when he was fighting with Alucard outside of the downed zeppelin.

Was it that her subconscious remembered these things, and put them together along with her mind in this strange, topsy-turvy dreamland? Alucard couldn't decide, and finally resolved to ask Seras when he saw her, wherever she was in this mansion. He knew she was here, somewhere behind these walls, hiding amongst the paneling in some room, and he was ready to get her and return to reality.

Walter returned after a few long minutes, his face drawn in a look of submissive irritation. He glared daggers at Alucard over the white banister, but motioned for him to come up the stairs to join him.

"Her Ladyship has been gracious enough to allow you an audience," he proclaimed. "However," he added as Alucard stood beside him on the second story, "If you manage to upset her in any way, I will gladly remove you with all my power." Alucard grinned, a cruel glint in his eyes, and Walter returned the stare with a threatening one of his own before turning and pointing to the main hallway.

"Follow me." He led Alucard down the halls, stepping lightly on the long Oriental runner that cut the middle of the hallway in two. They reached what looked like a greenhouse door, the wood painted in pale white with a tiny floral design done in pink and blue around the corners. Light streamed in through the tiny opening in the top of the door, brighter than the lamps in the hallway.

Opening the door, Walter led Alucard into an enormous atrium that was abundant with greenery. It was more like an overgrown garden rather than a grand hall or sitting room. Leafy trees grew thick with knotty branches and yet were still clearly well kept. Hibiscus grew in clumps of bushes, draped with vines and creepers from all corners of the globe. The cobblestone from the front walk was repeated here in a path that wound through the jungle, separated from the growth by an ornately styled, cobalt-gray wrought iron fence.

"This way," Walter called, heading down the cobbled path. Alucard followed, looking at the multitude of flowers spread across every available space of ground. They passed walls of trellises dressed up with rose vines, the blossoms varying in every shade a rose could be. There was a small courtyard with a massive tiered fountain, glittering koi darting in the basin as fresh water cascaded down on them in sparkling streams.

Sunlight filtered through the leafy canopy, shining on the butler's polished leather and turning Alucard's coat into a dazzling array of reds as alternating light and shadow danced across its surface. Holding his arm out, he let his bare wrist linger in the warm light, but no burning sensation accompanied the light. Peering up as best he could through the foliage, he tried to discern whether the sunlight was real or fake. But no, there was the blue sky, and a hint of wispy cloud. Was it because he was in a dream world that the sun had no effect on him here?

He was led by Walter out of the forest and into what looked like a field. Tall green grass mingled with butter-coloured daffodils and rainbow bunches of wildflowers growing here and there among the thin strands. Monarchs and Emperor butterflies fluttered lazily in the air, which was stirred by a soft breeze that perfumed the air with the scent of wild lavender and herbs.

Finally, without the leaves in the way, Alucard was able to look up at the sky. He saw to his surprise that it wasn't the sky at all, but the ceiling of the vast room. It had been expertly painted in different shades of blue to mimic a bright sky. Even the clouds showed great detail, the curved undersides of the white tendrils shaded in gray against the sunlight. And the _sun_; a massive glowing orb painted onto the ceiling like the rest, but the lights that were held within the circle were so bright it was as if he were looking at the real thing. He squinted up at it, astounded at the vibrancy of everything in the room. The plants were real, the sky looked real, and even the breeze seemed to be a true thing, as if they were really out of doors. It was beyond the scope of any mere garden; it was a botanical masterpiece.

On the crest of the hill there was a round table, draped in a white tablecloth and set for tea with silver platters. Two wicker chairs sat on either side of the table, but only one was occupied. Walter led him up to the table and nodded him forward, staying quietly out of the way as some sort of bodyguard. The figure at the table looked at them both and shook her head.

"You may leave, Walter. I'll call you if you're needed," it said. Alucard stepped forward, lost in a very uncharacteristic sense of wonder. The person at the table was Seras, it _had _to be Seras, and yet…. "Sit down, if you please," she said, motioning to the other chair.

The girl in the seat looked to be ten years old at the most. Her hair was short and all over the place, just like the real Seras' hair was. Her eyes shone as blue as the painted sky above them, her skin the healthy glow of a young girl and not the pale skin of the vampiress that lay in a hospital bed somewhere. She wore a white long-sleeved shirt with a sapphire blue pinafore that shifted into a darker ocean blue in the light whenever she moved. A crimson ribbon, about the same shade as his coat, was tied around her collar in a neat bow.

She tilted her head slightly and picked up her teacup, stirring the hot liquid with a silver spoon before taking a cautious sip. He watched her, trying to figure out what was going on. This was Seras, no doubt, but this was no vampiress with the body of a nineteen year old. Underdeveloped and still holding onto the wisps of childhood evident in her features, this was something he'd never come across before.

"Seras?" he asked, feeling unsure of himself. It was the first time in many centuries that he'd felt this way, and he wasn't sure how to take it. The girl smiled politely.

"Yes?" she replied in the same tone, eyeing him with unabashed curiosity. "What can I help you with?"

"Do you not know who I am? Have you not figured it out already?" he asked, more gruffly than he meant to. She appeared startled, her eyes widening and mouth making a small "O" before relaxing back into a neutral expression. She shook her head regretfully.

"I have no earthly idea who you are," she admitted. "My butler said you wanted to speak with me, so…." She finished with a bright smile, motioning with her tiny hand to the table layout. "Here we are!"

"I'm here to bring you home," he elaborated impatiently. Her expression became puzzled.

"Home?" she asked. "You must be mistaken. I _am_ home." Alucard shook his head, but she corrected him before he could say anything else. "This house is my home!" she insisted. "I live here with Mama and Papa."

"You have no family," he said roughly. "You're orphaned."

"Don't say that." Her eyes darkened and her smile faltered.

"It's the truth," he replied. "Your family is long gone." She stood up in her chair, towering over him, and stomped her foot. He saw beneath her pinafore she wore a stark gray petticoat and white tights.

"Don't _say that_!" she shouted, her hands balled into fists. "My parents are alive! Don't lie!"

"To say they're alive _is _a lie," he growled, standing as well. His shadows lurched with irritation. "You are not a child; you're a grown woman. It's time to give up this charade." She drew back, her lower lip quivering as she glanced fearfully at the shadows, but she didn't run away.

"I'm… I'm not," she whined pitifully, tears swimming in her eyes. "I'm just a girl." He advanced around the table, his teeth grinding as the last bit of his patience flew out the window. She curled in on herself defensively as he came closer, her hands covering her face.

"I'm… I'm just…" she whimpered, looking at him from between her fingers as the tears began to spill down her cheeks. He stopped, forcing his shoulders to untense as he saw the glistening drops dripping off of her chin. "Walter…." She cried in a broken whisper, rubbing her eyes with her fists.

Although Alucard barely was able to hear her, wires surrounded him and the butler came running up from the depths of the garden, somehow tuned in to the child's tears. The mask of fury on the younger man's face didn't cow the vampire king in the slightest, but the wires did a good job of separating him from the crying girl.

"I'm afraid I'll have to ask you to leave now," Walter said in a no-nonsense, sarcastically cordial tone. Alucard paused for a fraction of a second, a plan forming in his mind.

"Alright," he said, bowing his head with a grin. At the same time, his shadows raced through the wires, ripping them to shreds. His hand burst through the dark shades and grabbed the child's arm. Her squeak of surprise was cut off as he made for the jungle, tugging her along as the shadows turned on the butler. He heard Walter's exclamation of anger and quickened his pace, trying to decide where to take the girl now that he had her.

She didn't impede his progress, instead running as fast as she could to keep up as he raced past the fountain, the trellises, the hibiscus and vines, to the door, past the door, and down the winding halls. He was running at vampiric speed, turning the corners at a rate that would've ripped the poor thing's arm out of her socket had she been a real human. But somehow, Seras managed to keep up, her blue eyes wide in astonishment as they ran.

They rounded the last corner and he threw open the door. However, instead of the gleaming hall he saw a library. Floor to ceiling shelves were stacked with books, and a fire crackled merrily in the grate. The mantle and walls that weren't covered in books were decorated in a fairytale theme, from the elfin candelabras all the way down to the molding on the lower casing of the fireplace.

Befuddled, he let Seras' arm go and turned around, looking back down the hall. He was certain he'd counted the turns they'd made right. Was this some sort of trick house? He snarled in frustration, running a hand through his hair. He didn't have time for these games!

Even though she was now free, the preteen girl didn't run away. Instead she looked up at Alucard with the same curious glance as before, blinking solemnly as he paced the room. She shut the door to the library and went to sit in one of the upholstered chairs, crossing her ankles and holding her hands in her lap. Only her eyes moved to watch him as he moved about the room, her cheeks beginning to glow rosily from the heat of the flames.

"Are you a knight?" she asked after a long silence, punctuated only by the swishing of his coat and the infrequent rustle of pages being turned by the wind from his shadows as he passed. He stopped at the sound of her voice, turning to stare at her uncomprehendingly from his spot across the room.

"Do I _look _like a knight?" he spat at length, his eyes flashing angrily. She wasn't cowed by the sight, instead tilting her head as she looked him over. After scrutinizing him, she shook her head.

"You don't," she admitted. "But your eyes can't be trusted," she added in a scholarly tone. "All they do is lie to you."

"I told you that," he said quietly. His eyes narrowed and he crossed the room quickly, kneeling down at the side of the chair. He looked deeply into her eyes, searching for something that told him she knew what was going on. She returned his gaze steadily, but he could find nothing but innocence in her eyes. "Do you really recall nothing?" he asked in a forceful tone.

She continued to stare into his eyes, her own becoming more and more contemplating as the seconds ticked by. A small smile curved the corners of her mouth, and he felt as though she were seeing something he couldn't. He felt exposed, suddenly, but didn't dare break eye contact with her. Something passed between them, deep and unknown. He wasn't sure if he liked it.

"Are you sure you're not a knight?" she asked instead of answering his question. "Because I think I'm waiting for a knight. I dream about him sometimes."

"Do I really fit the picture of a knight in shining armor?" he sneered. She shook her head gravely, looking away with a frown. She bit her lip, seemingly exasperated over something, before her eyes flitted to his again.

"No, it's…" she paused, uncertain. "His armor isn't shining," she said softly. "It's silver, but it's not shiny _at all_. And he's got a cloak as black as the night." She seemed to make up her mind, and then nodded to herself before hopping out of the chair. "Can I show you something?" she asked, holding out her hand, all fear long forgotten.

He wasn't sure what she wanted him to give her, but he nodded. She stood there a moment more before huffing and grabbing his hand in her own tiny one, lacing their fingers together. He moved to pull back, but she was already walking and half-dragged him along, somehow much stronger than she seemed. He conceded to let her take him where she wanted.

She led him out the door, looking down both sides of the hallway before tugging him to the right and moving at a leisurely place through the mansion. They went up a flight of stairs and down endlessly repeating hallways, the wallpaper and carpeting the same in each. Finally she stopped before a door and opened it, leading him into a gallery. She led him past the statues and alabaster busts, towards a room separated by another archway.

In the second room were paintings of all kinds. She led him to one and stopped before it, looking up at it.

"There," she said quietly, pointing at the picture and tapping the bottom of the protective frame with her fingernail. Her other hand tightened on his, squeezing his fingers. He looked up at the painting, a small-scale replica of a larger masterpiece.

It was a dark painting, set at nighttime. On the left was a convoy of tents, and the background was set ablaze with flames. In the foreground, men on horseback fought with Kilij while others had spears and armor. Horses plunged in fright, the men lying dead or dying in every corner of the painting. The detail was so great that he could almost hear the sounds of men shouting in different languages and of terrified neighing; he could smell the acrid smoke and stench of death.

"It's a war," he said musingly, a savage grin curving at the edges of his lips. "Tell me, child: why do you show me this?"

"My knight was here," was her answer. He looked down at her.

"In this room?" She shook her head and motioned again to the painting.

"No, in there. In the war. I just know, somehow." He looked again, more closely this time. After a moment he caught her attention once more.

"What is this painting supposed to depict?" he asked. Something about it seemed a bit familiar, as if he'd seen it in a museum before. Perhaps he'd taken note of it someplace, on a mission or being a bodyguard to his master. The child smiled.

"I know the answer," she said proudly. "My papa told me all about it when I asked. It's the only painting I ever cared to learn anything about, although I didn't tell Papa that I wanted to know because my knight was in the picture. It might make him wonder," she said absently.

"What is the name?" he asked again.

"It's called The Battle with Torches," she said informatively. "It's a rendition of an ancient battle. The Night Attack of…" she wrinkled her nose. "I can't say it right. It's a weird word. Targoviste, or something like that."

"Târgovişte," he corrected. Suddenly, he _could_ feel the detail in the picture. It wasn't depicted the way it had truly happened, but it looked close. Seras nodded.

"Those blokes with the bent swords are the Turkeys," she continued, pointing to the Ottomans. "And these other men, the ones dressed up like knights, are the Wa—the Wall—" She huffed again. "I can't say their names either. Papa says the man who was leading them was outnumbered, but he was a brilliant man and he managed to hold them off for a bit. And then, when the Turkeys came to take the capital city, what they found was so frightening that they all turned back and went home, even though the other army wasn't even in the city anymore."

"And what did they find, that was so frightening?" he asked. He couldn't take his eyes of the picture, for some reason. The shouts echoed in his mind, although those men were long gone by now. He made sure to kill every last one of them, or at least show them what for.

"He wouldn't say," Seras pouted. "He said it might give me nightmares."

"It might," Alucard agreed quietly.

"I'd like to meet a man like that," Seras said with all the innocent conviction a child could possess. "Someone who could scare an entire army without even being there, I meant. I bet he would be a very interesting person. He could beat _anybody_ that way, if he did it the way he did those other ones."

"I hate to spoil the story, but he lost in the end."

"Hmm?" Seras looked up at him again. "Who?"

"The _brilliant_ leader, as you said. He loses. That's how the story ends."

"How?"

"His own people turned against him, at the last of it all." Her little hand tightened around his again, and her expression became one of righteous anger.

"That wasn't very nice of them," she said indignantly. He couldn't help but wonder at her solid sense of justice.

"That's war, my dear," he said, his savage grin returning. "Betrayal is just one of the downsides of being a tyrant in a war-torn country."

"Tyrant?" she repeated, her brow furrowing. "Isn't that a bad guy?"

"That depends on whose side you're on," he replied cryptically. She aahed and rocked on her heels for a moment, digesting his words.

"All the same," she finally deduced, "He might not have been so bad. As long as you stayed out of his way, I bet he was perfectly fine. I'm sad that he lost, in any case. Did they kill him?"

"They tried," he admitted. She wrinkled her nose again.

"What do you mean, "they tried"? Either you kill somebody or you don't. There's no in-between," she proclaimed.

"Isn't there?" he asked her. She stared wide-eyed at him and he bared his fangs. Her smile faltered and she sniffed, wiggling her fingers in his grip.

"Are you gonna eat me or something?" she asked boldly.

"I might," he said teasingly. "If you get in my way." She laughed at that, missing the serious undertone his words had.

"You're weird," she declared. "But I like you. C'mon," she said, jerking his arm in the direction of the door. "Let's run away together. Walter will be so mad, but it'll be fun!"

"Seras," he began, but already he found his feet moving of their own accord as they headed back through the archway and past the sculptures once more. "It's time to wake up," he said firmly.

"I can't," she said just as firmly. "I'm already awake. I can't wake up again." She was tugging hard at him, her Mary-Janes digging and sliding on the tile as she forced her way forward. "I bet I have a better chance of my knight jumping out of that picture as I do of finding some way of waking up while I'm already awake."

"You're _not _awake," he growled, impatience bubbling up again. "Now listen to me—" Before he could finish his sentence, she flung open the gallery door and the entire world seemed to lurch backwards. Her hand slipped from his and he saw her turn around, her expression one of surprise.

"Hey!" she called, but the world swirled into darkness and he felt as if he couldn't breathe. It didn't bother him, since he didn't _need _to breathe, but it did cause a momentary confusion and he jerked back, hearing a loud, prolonged mechanical alarm.

"Hey! The brain's flat lining!" He was pushed aside and his vision swirled back slowly, showing green-clad doctors rushing around a hospital bed.

"Alucard? Alucard! What's going on? Did you do something?!" That was his master, shouting in his ear with all her usual shrillness. He blinked unsteadily at her, the world still rocking on its axis as the bed was jostled and the alarm turned back into rhythmic beeping.

"What did we do?" one doctor asked, and the elderly doctor from before shook his head and shrugged.

"Beats me," he answered. "But hey, she's stable again so let's count our blessings." They all stood around watching the monitor before slowly filing out again. Integra shook Alucard's shoulders, still asking an endless stream of questions in his ear.

"I saw something," he said finally, and she shut her mouth faster than he'd ever seen her do it before. "But she threw me out, somehow."

"What was it? Was she alright? What did you see?" He shook his head and she shoved at his shoulders again. "Answer me!"

"I saw Seras," he muttered, still feeling dizzy even though the world had tilted back and was almost finished shaking. "She seemed fine; not the same, but still fine." She opened her mouth and he shook his head. "You'd just have to see for yourself. I can't explain that."

"Well, can you go in there and try again?"

"She was unwilling to listen to me—"

"Well _make her listen_, for God's sake! You're the No-Life King, do something!" she roared angrily, forgetting to keep her voice in check.

"As you wish." He grit his teeth in order to keep from yelling in return. He never liked losing his temper around the Hellsings. They just used it against him. It was better to keep a neutral expression and act as if nothing in the world bothered you.

She nodded and turned to leave, pausing by the door only to say "Standing orders remain". He turned back to the prone form and leaned forward again.

Time for Round 2.

* * *

><p><strong>Afterword: <strong>Yeah, yeah. Just take this; there's only going to be one chapter more. This is going to be a very short story. Be happy I was able to push this out.

**(._. )**


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